


a devil and assassin’s guide to kitchen domesticity

by anissa_qiaolian



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 19:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19893028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anissa_qiaolian/pseuds/anissa_qiaolian
Summary: They’re together and they’re happy. That’s it.





	a devil and assassin’s guide to kitchen domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I missed these babes. Love writing them as the domestic soft bitches they truly are.

“Elektra.” He reaches out a hand. “Where did you go, Elektra?”

She comes up behind him with two glasses of wine. Rolling her eyes, she places one of them in his outstretched hand.

“Don’t be so dramatic Matthew. I was checking on our food to make sure it didn’t burn. Surely you can live without me for sixty seconds.”

Matt’s voice is grumpy. “I really can’t.”

He searches for her lips and she meets him in a kiss. She patted the side of his cheek. “We might have to talk about your codependency problem, darling.”

Elektra sets the wine glass down and rubs her hands on Matt’s thighs. Matt picks her up and slides her body into his lap. He ducks his head to press a kiss on her collar.

Elektra was trying her hand at being domestic. Bacon sizzled on the stove while she cooked the eggs with practiced skill.

She even wore an apron, pulling out all the stops for a nice, quiet morning in.

It was important that she and Matthew had those every so often. But not every day, because the sheer mundanity of it would’ve driven her mad at some point.

She heads back over to the omelettes and checks their progress. They were cooking well, if a little slowly for her taste.

Hands grab at her from behind, pulling her waist into a tight embrace. Her shoulders tense for just a fraction of a second before her mind registers the intruder.

Matthew.

He knew her well enough to know she was smirking, and she laughed again as she popped a finished piece of bacon in her mouth.

"Do you know what I would've done if you were someone else?"

She leans into his arms. His chuckle comes low and rough in her ear.

Her breathing quickens against her will. She can feel the smile in his voice.

"I have a pretty good idea."

He traces kisses along her collarbone. She sighs into the touches and lets her body relax against his tight chest.

"I'm disappointed, Matthew. Here I am, cooking us breakfast, and you haven't even said good morning."

She makes sure to pronounce the petulance in her voice, knowing he caught it easily enough either way. He chuckles again, a little sheepishly this time.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

His voice comes low and sultry in her ear. The thick arms that never left her waist squeeze slightly and she gasps. A kiss is pressed to her spatula wielding hand.

A moan escapes her throat.

“Breakfast?”

He works kisses up her collarbone.  
“Mmm.”

His hands slide down her waist he touches the bunched up material there experimentally.

“An apron?”

“Don’t get used to it, love.”

Elektra taps Matt’s elbow. “Matthew?”

“Hmm?”

“The omelettes.”

“They can wait.”

“They will burn.”

Matt sighs deeply. He reaches over Elektra and scoops the two omelettes off the pan. Elektra slides the plates under his arm and he sets both on a single plate.

She turns the gas stove off and gets the silverware. Matt carries the plate over to the sofa and sets it on the coffee table.

Elektra tsks behind him. “You’re going to mess up the upholstery, Matthew.”

Matt huffs out a laugh. Elektra was always ridiculously protective of his cheap ass furniture. Convincing her it wasn’t worth it was a losing battle he didn’t feel like fighting today.

So he pulls up a dusty TV tray he’s known since Columbia and places the food and two cups of juice (orange, freshly squeezed) and plops himself on the sofa.

Elektra slips down beside him with her usual grace and Matt pulls her legs across his.

“This is nice, Elektra. Thank you.”

Elektra hums contentedly by his side. Her fingers smooth the loose strands of his hair, still messy from sleep.

Her own hair is silky and immaculate as always, and Matt catches a few of the strands in his finger and twists them around his thumb.

“Well, we can’t have you burning down this kitchen can we?” She says, lightly. He wants to argue but he touches Elektra’s face and feels one of her perfect eyebrows raise.

“That was one time,” he relents. “And not to make excuses but, if I remember correctly you were uh, being pretty distracting.”

“I was not!”

Matt scoffed. “Sweetheart, going on down on someone while they’re making grilled cheese does count as a distraction.”

He raised his own brow and Elektra shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t tell me to stop. But I was picking Kraft singles off the floor for the next few minutes. I was not happy about that.”

“Guess I made quite a mess.”

“Well...” Elektra paused and he could practically taste the smirk playing on her lips. “Only one. The other cleaned I quite well, if I say so myself.”

Matt snorted. “And here I thought you were above toilet humor.”

“Toilet humor, yes. Bedroom humor on the other hand....”

Matt pulled Elektra closer on his lap. “Well in that case...”

He kissed Elektra. She brought herself over him before pulling back. She shot him chastised look that although couldn’t be seen was felt, and she uses her fork to dig into their nearly forgotten breakfast. “Eat first.”

But that just encouraged him further as a wolffish grin spread across his face.

“Oh I plan on eating.”

“Matthew!” Elektra cried, sounding scandalized. But a laugh threatened to escape her lips and her ruined her facade, so she pressed them tight. She couldn’t stop her lips from quirking upwards, though.

He was right. This was nice. It had been so long since she - and Matthew - were able to feel this light and free.

Happy.

The word still tasted wrong on Elektra’s tongue, like it didn’t belong to her.

Well, she wasn’t above stealing.

And if she had to steal time itself for Matthew to be, happy with or without her, then she would.

But while she was okay watching Matt live a long happy life from a distance, she greatly preferred to spend her days with him like this.

Even if it meant cooking breakfast, wearing aprons, and making sure Matt kept regular contact with his friends while hiding the fact that she was alive so the targets could finally leave their backs then she would pay it back, with interest.

She was selfish like that.  



End file.
